INDEX  TO  WEB  SITE

HOME
PREFACE 

STORY UPDATE NEWS AND EBAY LISTING

 

GENERAL ITEMS
FOGGYDAVES CANTENNA 
THE EVIL OVERLORD LIST

THE EVIL MINIONS GUIDE

OTHER EVIL/ HERO  GUIDES
A FEW VERSES 

NAMES I CALL MY WIFE & SHAKESPEAREAN INSULTS

COLLECTIVE NOUNS FOR ANIMAL SPECIES

SOME OTHER EBAY SALES WITH STORIES

THE REAL MEANING OF HAYNES MANUAL INSTRUCTIONS

SALAD FINGERS

TOMTOM SATNAV SAG BLUES

 

KITE MAKING PAGES

REVOLUTION KITE MAKING

 

CONTRIBUTIONS FROM READERS

STORIES BY HATTYMENDER  

STORIES BY HELEN WORRALL

 

STORIES  AND EBAY SALES

1     AN OLD LAND ROVER
2     EBAY
3     SELLING AN OLD LAND ROVER  
4     SELLING WHEELS AND TYRES
5     A NEW JOB AT THE FUNERAL PARLOUR
6     SELLING VIDEO CAMERA
7     MY BIRTHDAY TODAY
8     WITCHERY PART ONE
9     SELLING CANVAS HOOD
10   WITCHERY PART TWO
11   SELLING CARAVAN HITCHDRIVE 
12   WITCHERY PART THREE
13   SELLING RATCHET STRAPS  
14   WITCHERY PART FOUR
15   SELLING GOAL POSTS  
16   WITCHERY PART FIVE
17   SELLING A HI VIZ COAT
18   WITCHERY PART SIX

19   SELLING 3 TONNES OF CLAY    
2O  WITCHERY PART SEVEN
21   SELLING A WHEEL CLAMP
22   SHOPPING AND THE HESITANT DOORS
23   SELLING AN OLD PAIR OF BOOTS

24   THE REAL DE VINCI CODE

25   MY GUITAR AND AMP

26   SELLING MOTORBIKE PANNIERS

27   HALLOWEEN

28 SELLING A HIGHWAY CODE

29 ZEN AND THE ART OF  LAND ROVER MAINTENANCE

30  SELLING A CIGARETTE LIGHTER AND A TRIP TO SCOTLAND

31  CHRISTMAS LIGHT RAGE

32  METAMORPHOSIS

33 SELLING AN AMBER BEACON

34 THE UNIVERSE IS A  BIG PLACE

35 SELLING A  BLOW LAMP

36 SELLING BOOTS UPDATE

37 SELLING A  TORCH

38 SELLING A MOTORBIKE JACKET

39 SELLING A POWER JUICER

40 SELLING A HORSE WHIP

41 THE BOAT

42 SELLING LAND ROVER SIDE STEPS

43 SELLING A  TOW / RECOVERY CHAIN

44 SELLING LAND ROVER BULL BARS

45 SELLING THE FOGGYDAVE CARRIER BAG

46 CARAVAN RAGE OR AGINCOURT DEUXIEME PARTIE

 

 

 

A FEW VERSES

Details

First line

1   St Ebays day speech.            FD

We few we happy few.
2   Rap version St Ebay speech  FD Me happy homies, me rock steady crew
3   Beware the 'Send' key.          FD The moving mouse clicks.
  Rap version - Da wheels roll by
4   Should I compare thee 1,      FD Should I compare thee to an old cart horse?
5   Should I compare thee 2,      FD   Should I compare thee to an old Land Rover,
6   Sally Satnav.                         FD Sally Satnav speaking softly.
7   I cannot afford a present     Simon F Simon being poor, has only his baked treats;
8   Ebay joy                               FD Oh to be in England now that Ebays there.
9   The keyboard of life              FD There are only the letters you type with.
10 Casabianca - by Felecia Hemansy   The boy stood on the burning deck
11 Should I compare thee 3.      FD

Should I compare thee to an aged house.

12  4 Classic poems with rap translations 1 Jerusalem - William Blake
  2 Stop the clocks - W H Auden
  3 Rule Britannia.
  4 If - Rudyard Kipling
13 Othello rap by The Reduced Shakespeare company
14 Shylock rap by Dara Homer of Florida
15 Romeo and Juliet rap by Pat Alvarado 2004
16 Macbeth rap by Flocabularys Sheakespear
17 I am a book                         FD I am a book, dog eared and tatty
18 Invictus  by  William Ernest Henley Out of the night that covers me,
19 Selling the Ark Royal by Wegion Benbows days are over
   

 

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1 St Ebays day speech.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he today that bids this auction with me.
Shall be my brother, be he neíer so vile.
This auction shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed,
Shall think themselves accursed they did not bid.
And hold their manhoodís cheap whiles any speaks
That bid with you on this fair auction and won.

FD

The above is a loose translation from the bard

St. Crispen's Day Speech
Shakespeare's HENRY V
C. 1599
The last few lines.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day

BACK TO STORY

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2 Rap version of St Ebays Speech

Me happy homies, me rock steady crew.

Bid wiv me an be one of der few,

Dat is ma bro even if yo dissed,

Dis sale goin down jus can't be missed,

And gangsta's in der cribs all smashed out,

When dey got no ganga de all will shout.

They'l old der standin eavy when dey seed,

Da ones who bid wid me an won de weed.

 

DD

 


   ---------------------------------------------------------

Below are 2 very  loose translation from  Edward Fitzgerald's translation of the poems The RubŠiyŠt of Omar Khayyam, 1859:

Original
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

-------------------------

 3 Beware the send key

 The moving mouse clicks,
And having clicked moves on,
All your undoes and deletes will not the message stop,
Nor all youíre banging of keyboards cancel out a word of it.
FD

-----------------------------

RAP VERSION

Da wheels roll by de shot is fired
Not meant for you no de udder one
Cant take it back, too late now innit
Don cry wont do no good binnit

FD

---------------------------------
BACK TO PREFACE

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4 Should I compare thee 1

Should I compare thee to an old cart horse?
Would be rather rude of course,
The similarities there I fear,
You do look like one from the rear.
It wouldnít be far from the truth to say,
Your laugh sounds like a horses neigh.
 

FD
 


---------------------------------------------------------------


5 Should I compare Thee 2

Should I compare thee to an old Land Rover,
Rotten chassis rusted over,
Balding tyres on wobbly wheels,
Are you as old as you really feel?

A grating noise from somewhere hidden,
Oily fumes that come unbidden,
Foot on pedal but not so fast,
As when you put your foot down last.

You wander so across the road,
When asked to carry a heavy load,
With old worn springs getting saggy,
Soft top weathered getting baggy.

With faded paint and dented wing,
Loose rattley bits tied on with string,
The burning oil smell getting stronger,
The acrid smoke trails getting  longer.

But come the storms and drifting snow,
When others stuck and cannot go,
You pull us through you trusty friend,
Strong and valiant to the end.


The time has come for the ministry test,
We must get you looking at your best,
The tester then says the words you fear,
I think we have a failure here.

Your engines shot with crank shaft grinding,
Bearings worn; brakes that are binding,
Loose track rod ends; exhaust pipe blowing,
Tyres worn with steel cord showing.

This seems to be a wreck I fear.
The repair bill will be very dear,
SHE  then says words you dread so,
It costs too much its got to go.

FD

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6 Sally Satnav

or A Lorry Drivers Lament

Sally Satnav speaking softly.

Second turning on the right.

Sally Satnav voice so gentle.

Guiding me on through the night.

 

Although you may speak oh so softly.

You may guide me left or right.

I tire of women giving orders.

I will resist with all my might.

 

Sally Satnav voice much louder.

Round the island second turning.

I know best I am the master.

Her suggestions I keep spurning.

 

Sally Satnav now a shouting.

Why I bother I donít know.

Although I give the right directions.

The opposite you want to go.

 

At home my wife keeps nagging nagging.

Always telling me what to do.

I come to work for peace and quiet.

And now Iíve got to listen to you.

 

Sally Satnav tone placating.

I only show the way to go.

I only do it for your own good.

In your heart you know its so.

 

I know you'r being very patient.

The way you point is ever true.

Yes I know you do not lie.

Iím sorry to have troubled you.

 

Sally Satnav voice so soothing .

Second turning on the right.

Now do exactly as I tell you.

Or you're  in for a big fight.

 

Are you threatening Sally Satnav?

Iím the master here you know.

I think I may just press the button.

Itís so sad youíve got to go.

 

So its goodbye to Sally Satnav.

I think its time to change the voice.

Satnav Sam is in there somewhere.

Isn't it nice  to have a choice.

FD

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7 I cannot afford a present

Simon being poor, has only his baked treats;

He has spread his baked treats under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread upon his baked treats.

 

 Simon F

 

You could of course substitute the baked treats for anything.

ie A brussel sprout named Fred.

My toe nail clippings,

etc etc etc,

Send some suggestions in and I will post them on this page.

 

The above was loosely translated from a poem by Yeats who is now turning in his grave,

 

The original lines,

 

He wishes for the cloths of heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with the golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths.
Of night and light and half-light,

but I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

 
William Butler Yeats

 


 

---------------------------------------------------------------

 

8 Ebay joy

 

Oh to be in England,

Now that eBays there,

And whoever wakes in England,

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the highest bids have won the day,

Its Oh so little you have to pay,

You are the one that come what may,

Bid on eBay and won.

 

FD

 

Original verse by Browning

The original lines

 

OH, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England -- now!

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------

 

9 On the QWERTY keyboard of life.

 

There are only the letters you type with.

On the QWERTY keyboard of life.

A missed key can mean the difference

Between happiness or strife

 

When you press the key be very sure

The letter is what you want

On the keyboard of life there is no delete

No erasing or changing of font

 

 

Does it matter if the spacing

Of the words is a little big

Life is never going to be perfect

It will be always be WYSIWYG

 

FD

 

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From story 32

10 Casabianca

 

The boy stood on the burning deck,

Whence all but him had fled;

The flame that lit the battle's wreck

Shone round him o'er the dead.

 

Yet beautiful and bright he stood,

As born to rule the storm;

A creature of heroic blood,

A proud though child-like form.

 

The flames rolled on - he would not go

Without his father's word;

That father, faint in death below,

His voice no longer heard.

 

He called aloud - "Say, father, say

If yet my task is done?"

He knew not that the chieftain lay

Unconscious of his son.

 

"Speak, father!" once again he cried,

"If I may yet be gone!"

And but the booming shots replied,

And fast the flames rolled on.

 

Upon his brow he felt their breath,

And in his waving hair,

And looked from that lone post of death

In still yet brave despair:

 

And shouted but once more aloud,

"My father! must I stay?"

While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,

The wreathing fires made way.

 

There came a burst of thunder sound-

The boy - oh! where was he?

Ask of the winds that far around

With fragments strewed the sea!

 

With mast, and helm, and ennon fair,

That well had borne their part-

But the noblest thing that perished there

Was that young faithful heart.

 

Felicia Hemans

 

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------

11 Should I compare thee 3

 

Should I compare thee to an aged house?

Old and dusty with resident mouse.

Fire place dead where used to flame,

A warming fire that called my name.

 

Musty cellar cold and damp,

Lit only by an old oil lamp.

Not much visited rarely used,

Unless to mend a broken fuse.

 

Floor boards warping always creaking

Drains all blocked wastewater leaking

Rising damp with crumbling plaster

Rising slowly getting faster

 

Paint work peeling windows rotten,

Dull glass hiding rooms forgotten.

Wiring aged, wiring fraying,

Not worth renewing, not worth paying.

 

Roof is leaking tiles are broke,

The rain comes in my dreams to soak.

I no longer climb the creaking stairs

Of your heart, to catch you unawares.

 

 

The night draws in so lock the door,

I wont be leaving any more.

Aged  house I know you well,

Find comfort in your peaceful spell.

 

FD

 

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12

 

4 CLASSIC POEMS WITH THEIR RAP TRANSLATIONS

These poems and translations have been sent in by readers.

I do not know who wrote the translations

--------------------

 

No1 JERUSALEM by WILLIAM BLAKE
Original version


And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire.
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

------------------------
 

JERUSALEM RAP
Rap version


And did me feet in trainers fine
Walk upon England's streets so mean
And did me bros, me big heroes,
Check it out, know what I mean?

Did they, on dere mobile phones
Record me spree of crimes and ills
Then put dem pics on internet
So yo all can learn and watch and chill.

Bling me a record of platinum gold
Bling me a lawyer for hire
Bling me a contract for albums sold
Bling me all me heart's desire.

I will not stop me steam and fight
Nor even for a hundred grand
A rapper's worth is a rapper's bite
On England's soft and gentle hand.

 

Anon
 


--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

No2 STOP THE CLOCKS by W.H. AUDEN

Original version


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

STOP THE CLOCKS RAP
Rap version
Stop all dem clocks, unplug da phone
Hush dat dog wid da juicy bone
Quit dat piano and dat sound of drum
Da dude is merked, let dem bros come.
Dem airplanes fly over me head
Wid da message write on da sky: he's dead.
Chill it all, out of respec'
Make da man tie black round his neck.
He was me gang, me crew, me bro
He helped me get high, now I'm so low.
He was da mate who always be strong
I thought he live for ever: I was wrong.
Dem stars no one want them now, put out every one
No need for the moon or the sun
Da dude is gone,put up da hood
For nothing now is no damned good

 

Anon
 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

No3 RULE BRITANNIA

Original version


When Britain first, at Heavn's command,
Arose from out the azure main,
Arose, arose, arose from out the a-azure main,
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain:
Rule Britannia! Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.


RULE BRITANNIA RAP
Rap version
Has poor old Britain had enuff
Dis nation now going down
Dis nation, nation, nation now in deep decline
Cos of da drugs, like man, and all dat stuff
And yeah, bro, all dat crime
Yo Britannia, a country gripped by rot
Sadly ruled by Westminsters servile lot.

 

Anon

 

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No4 IF by RUDYARD KIPLING
(First, second and last verses)

Original version

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting, too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With 60 seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


IF RAP

Rap version

If you can keep yo stash when the bros
Are losing theirs and pinning it on you.
If you can bust yo rival crew
And make da cash and sniff da glue,
If you can be dissed and use da knife
And do da time and feel da strife.
And through it all, through all dem fights,
Hang on man, to dem yo human rights.
If you can rap wid da gangsta boys
And rap some wid da law
If you can keep dem guessing
About just what dey saw
If you can keep dem guessing
About just what dey know
And so hold when dere is nothing
Except the will dat shouts 'Let's Go'.
If you can talk to magistrates and hang on to your crack ,
Or social workers, who know yo pain
So let you keep yo smack
If you can do all dat yo should
Do what da broverhood have done
Then yours is the turf.
And there's truth in the lie:
That yo a man, my son.

 

Anon

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

13 OTHELLO RAP

 

By The Reduced Shakespeare Company

 


Here's the story of a brother by the name of Othello.
He liked white women and he liked green Jell-O.
And a punk named Iago who made himself a menace
Because he didn't like Othello, the Moor of Venice.
Now Othello got married to a chick named Desdemona.
But he went off to the wars and he left her alona.
It was a mona--
A groana--
He left her alona.
He didn't write a letter and didn't telefona.
Desdemona she was fearful, she was chastity-tight.
She was the daughter of the Duke. Yeah, she was totally white.
Now Othello loved Desi like Adonis loved Venus.
And Desi loved Othello --
'Cuz he had a big.....ummn, sword.
He said, I'm gonna shaft the Moor.
How're you gonna do it? Tell us.
Well, I know his tragic flaw: He's too damn jealous.
I need a dupe, I need a dope, I need a kind of a schmo.
So he found himself a chump sucker by the name of Cassio.
So he plants on him Desdemona's handkerchiefs.
So Othello starts to wondering just maybe if
while he's been out fighting, Commanding an army.
Desi and Cass were playing hide the salami.
Salami, salami, s-s-salami.
So he comes back home and stuck a pillow on her face.
Kills her and soliloquizes 'bout his disgrace.
But there's Amelia at the door who we met in Act IV.
Who says, "You big dummy. She weren't no ho."
She was pure, clean, virginal too.
So why'd you have to go and make her face turn blue?
It's true.
It's you.
Now what you gonna do?
And Othello says, Damn, this is getting pretty scary.
So he pulled out a blade and committed hara-kiri.
Do that funky Moor thing, white boy.
Iago got caught but he probably copped a plea.
Loaded up his bags
And moved to Beverly.
Hills, that is.
We have been the Reduced Shakespeare Company.

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

14 SHYLOCK RAP

 

by Dara Homer of Florida

 

There was a Jew named Shylock who lived in the ghetto.
He wore a red cap and he liked Sorbetto.
Antonio the merchant he lived in Venice,
he spit on the Jews, yeah he was totally a menace.
He had a huge crush, so he decided to go,
and loan some money for old Bassanio.
Shylock asked some flesh for ducats by the sco,'
will he really shed the blood, we won't know til act fo.'
In Belmont Portia sat with her maid Nerrisa,
and the prince of Morroco, she didn't like him fo' shiizzza.
But the prince went away cuz he chose the wrong casket,
was he sad, was he blue, you don't need to ask it.
But Bassanio came along with Portia's heart in a basket,
he was lean, he was mean, he was a lovin machine.
Him and Portia got married, while she was only a teen,
they exchanged rings- important towards the end of the show,
but Anotonio was in trouble so Bassanio had to go.
Shylock got mad so they all went to court,
where they tied up Antonio and fed him twelve glasses of port.
Portia came to the scene disguised as a dude,
and she told Shylock he was bein totally rude.
Show some mercy bro fo sho she said in a speech,
but Shylock clung to his bond like a slimy fat leech.
Go ahead take and your flesh jew-dude, Portia said,
and just as Antonio was nearly dead,
she saved his head,
took five and made up the law instead.
To Shylock, she she showed no mercy and said,
we'll take all yo bread or you'll be banish-ED.
Shylock was done, and he almost won,
but he didn't have to be a Jew,
so he got to have FUN.

 

 

 

 

-------------------------------------------------------

 

15 ROMEO RAP

 

 by Pat Alvarado 2004

Here is the story of a real cool dude.
Romeo's his label,and he sho' ain't crude.
He went to a party where he wasn't supposed to.
He fell for a gal that he danced real close to.

Juliet, Juliet, yeah man.

The priest and the nurse,they got the two together.
They built 'em a nest,like birds of a feather.
The problem was the old man and old lady
didn't want Romeo to be her matey.

Capulet, Montague, no man.

So he got in a fight with a real rough cat.
He killed him dead, and that was that.
The trouble was the dude was Juliet's kin,
And we all know blood's thicker than skin.

Tybalt, Tybalt, po' man.

The priest and the nurse hatched 'em a plan to fool Verona;
Julie takes a pill,and they think she's a goner.
The problem was Romeo was a loner.
He got kicked outta town by the dudes of Verona.

Romeo, Romeo, where you be?
Yo, Mantua by the sea.

He gets a message the wrong way straight.
He rides to Verona to see his mate.
When he arrives,he thinks he's late;
So he slays the Frenchman and opens the gate.

Paris, Paris, po' man.

He sees his chick taking a nap;
He gets real fonky and starts to rap.
He takes out the poison and drinks it real quick;
He ends his life to be with his chick.

Romeo, Romeo, po' man.

The priest comes in way too late,
He sees all the blood near the gate.
Julie yawns and she sits up straight;
She spies the priest and asks for her mate.

"Romeo, Romeo, where you be?"

"Lord, Child, can't you see your dude is dead?
No mo' mister!
I'll take you away and make you a sister!"

Juliet, Juliet, po' gal.

She sends him away.She says she won't go.
She picks up the cup and throws it on the flo'.
She gives her man a longing kiss.
She grabs his knife and dies in bliss.

Juliet, Juliet, po' gal.

Now the Montagues and Capulets they made their peace;
They raised up some statues to show their grief.
For never was a story of more woe,
Than this one here of Juliet and Romeo.

 

TO TOP

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16 MACBETH RAP


Sound and Fury macbeth rap from Flocabularys Sheakespear
Hip Hop album features Grey, Riddick, and Charles Hendricks

View on Utube


A story of Death, Greed, Jealousy, Envy, Sin.

Allow myself to introduce myself
The names Macbeth, during labour I induced myself
Macbeth
I'll rap death until my last breath
That's where you'll find my address.

Started with me and Banquo meeting these three witches
They said my future would hold kingly riches
But Buns sons would reign instead of me
I,m like Yeah right, What could make my friend my enemy

But then I found out that the Cawdor title was mine
And suddenly thoughts of jealousy were filling my mind

This greed would be easy to sip like tea
So feeling kindly I checked in with my queen bee
My lady, She was like, "Why you thinking maybe?"
"Killing this king'll be like taking Haggis of a  baby"

Im wavering, Shes telling me to be a man
Im like, "Man I guess we,ll go through with the plan"
I cant ignore it.

We're gonna beat 'em
We gotta lead 'em
We're gonna need 'em
Thats the reason we defeat 'em

Let it begin,Slip the guards ten shots of Gin.
I wait for them to pass out,Then commence the sin.
I throw concience to the wind,My throat as tight as a glove,
And I see this vision of a dagger dripping with blood.
But I proceed past the guards to the kings bed side
Creep up, wake up,You ever taken a mans life? Well I have.
I plunged the dagger so deep,Now he's resting in peace.
I hear a scream

Sleep no more, Macbeth murders sleep.These guilty thoughts in my head
Something I don't want to keep.
My lady plants bloody daggers on the passed out guards,
We wash the blood from our hands and we escape through the yard

They say the first murder's the hardest, and thats right.
After that first night, I had no problem taking life.
Remember what them witches said about Banquos kids?
Well I sent off three hit men to murder them quick.

They stab the father,but miss the son.
Now Fleance is fleeing.Yea I got him on the run.

Its hard to host a party When your best friends ghost
Shows up to haunt you, while your busy making a toast.
You can't ignore it

We gonna beat 'em
We gotta lead 'em
Were gonna need 'em

Thats the reason that the witches say

Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldren bubble.

Fillet of fenny snake,
In the caukdren boil and bake,
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and toe of dog.
Adders fork and blind worms sting.
Lizards leg and owlets wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldren bubble

I ask them for answers, and I sit and listen,
They respond by summoning three apparitions,
First says, "fear Macduff"
Yeah I guessed as much.
Second says "None born of woman shall harm Macbeth"
Third says "You wont ever be harmed or hassled"
"Till the days of the woods march right up to my castle"

M & M gather armies to march upon me,
Bring it on!No one of woman born can harm me.
Back at the castle my ladys slowly losing her mind,
She's screaming
"Out damned spot out I say"
Later on I'm informed she died, no remorse,
Not a tear, death means little to king Macbeth.

Till I learn a C sections how macduff was born
It feels like someone left me with a heart thats torn
And I think back about the apparitions quote
As I see Macduffs sword coming at my throat
Its game over.


Were gonna beat 'em
We gonna lead 'em
We gonna need @em
Thats the reason that we defeat 'em

Tommorrow, and tommorrow, and tommorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death, Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing

 

 

FD Note I have edited the poem a little to make it scan right, but have kept some verses original even though they don't. If you listen to the Utube original it sounds perfect.

 

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17 I AM A BOOK

 

I am a book, dog eared and tatty.

With spine splitting, edges worn, cover faded.

With pages missing from the first chapters.

Those not missing are blurred and indistinct.

In between some are dried pressed flowers,

Placed as reminders of times and loves long past,

Flowers dead with petals faded as are the memories.

Someone, maybe me has scribbled writing in the margins,

With words now indistinct,

That drew attention to some sentence so important at the time.

 

That importance forgotten now. 

 

Chapters that I would dearly love to read again are missing,

Pain of remembrance cutting them out,

The memory of the words is fading with time.

And as time progresses my eyesight dims,

I am no longer able to read the words, but have them read to me.

Someone else holds the book,

Someone else turns the pages.

 

Someone else reads.

 

I feel the words said are not the ones written,

But are words the reader thinks I want to hear.

I hope they do not close the book just yet.

FD

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18 INVICTUS

 

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

 

 

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19   A poem by Wegion on the selling off of the Ark Royal

 

Benbows days are over and our ships are almost gone
No longer will Britannia rule the waves
Once proud and noble sailors who died to keep us free
Are lying now and turning in their graves

Thereís a statue up in London and the tears come to its eye
And they fall on to the busy square from High
Thereís two old salts just sitting there their wind lined faces set
As they try to fathom out the reason why

Ships lie rusting in the dockyards waiting to be scrapped
As politicians talk about defence
But battles such as Jutland Trafalgar and the Nile
Mean nothing to those lacking common sense

We are an island nation the greatest some would say
For centuries we kept the oceans free
But now our politicians rant about others human rights
And the pirates take their hostages with ease

But letís go back just 30 years to 1982
When the Falkland islanders were overrun
A mighty task force headed south to try and safe the day
And did not return until the job was done

But if this happened now we know that both our hands are tied
By the people who are supposed to lead our way
We could never raise a force again that would be fit to do the job
And keep those invading enemies at bay

From Nelsons wooden walls to ballistic submarines
Our navy has always served us true
The waters of this Sceptered isle Have always remained safe
Thanks to the men that wore the Navy Blue

So as we beat retreat once more and another ensign lowers
And we watch Britannia sink below the foam
Letís think of all the jacks that sailed in the old grey funnel line
And kept generations safely in their homes

 

 

Copyright © David B Forrester 2008